


Scene 2: A Visit, A Recrimination, and An Agreement

by ellethom



Series: Scenes From a Marriage [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:59:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4676057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/pseuds/ellethom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fall, Jaime makes his way back to Tarth.  This is part two of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scene 2: A Visit, A Recrimination, and An Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> Another part in this series. I had to alter some canon which shouldn't be hard to decipher. Hope you all enjoy.

He didn’t know what to expect when he stepped off the single boat.  Last time he had come had been so different.  Tarth lay out in front of him as he stepped off of the hired boat.  Clouds had rolled into the early afternoon sky as he hired a horse to make it to the castle. 

He had not seen her since the Tourney on Robert Baratheon’s wedding day.  She had come with her father as expected of his future wife.  Cersei had been in sour humor and Jaime had to work double to keep Brienne away from her.

The four years since he visited had been more than he wanted to deal with.  His betrothal to the Maid of Tarth could not be overthrown, not even by a king bent on removing Tywin Lannister of his heir.  And so, after leaving his betrothal visit, Jaime had been appointed to the City guard.

A poor decision on the dead king’s part for the appointment and a poorer decision on Jaime’s part for accepting any means of being near Cersei.  She’d ended up back in Casterly anyway, and Tywin Lannister had rode through King’s Landing; after his son and heir opened the gates of the city.

Jaime arrived at the main gate on Tarth and slid through the portcullis with barely a notice other than the guard who recognized him with a barely concealed scowl.  He marched through to the courtyard instinctually following the sound of metal on metal.  Jaime supposed it would be the place to find her.  Gods knew she would be nowhere near the septas rooms where women usually hid with needles and threads.

Not my wife, he grinned to himself as he strolled closer to the practice yard.

The lad in dented mail was fierce.  Jaime watched him from the armory as the helmed lad swung mace and wreaked havoc on the taller lad who had the unfortunate luck to be against him.  He wondered where the girl was, he had not sent any ravens announcing his visit; he had not even planned on crawling away from the bloodshed in King’s Landing.  He just needed a reminder of how blue the waters of Tarth had been four years before.

“Ser Jaime,” a voice called beside him.  Jaime recalled the man at arms who had worked the yards and trained the men on the island.  Martin had also trained Brienne for which Jaime found amusing.

“Ser Martin,” he nodded toward the practice yard where the two opponents were still locked in battle. “Who is the lad?   The one with the mace?” he asked.

An odd look crawled across the face of the older man. “Ser Jaime?” he asked amused.

Jaime whistled low at a hit the thinner boy took when he failed to dodge the boy’s swing. “He is a beast.  Tell me, is he free?  I have use of a squire.  My last one…well best not to dwell on what became of my last squire. ”

Ser Martin nodded as he continued to watch the foray in front of them.

“It would be nice to have someone to remind me of Tarth.  Houses joining and all of that.” Jaime smiled.

Ser Martin said nothing as the two fighters came to a halt when the slimmer boy cried ‘yield’ in a thin wheeze. “That one is no one’s squire Ser Jaime.” His grin was missed on Jaime who was mesmerized as the boy with the mace met a new challenger.  This one was taller than the last but just as broad as the younger boy.

“Well,” Jaime said, “Speak up, man, What’s his name?” The broad shouldered lad delivered another wide, measured swing that connected with the breastplate of the taller fighter “Ooo, that will leave a mark.”

Ser Martin’s smile nearly cracked his withered face in half. “Brienne will be surprised to see you.” He said finally.

Jaime nodded. “Surprises, you know how it is.  Young love.” The last word spit from his lips like a spoiled bit of lemon accidently ingested. He took his eyes away from the desiccation in the practice yard long enough to look around the area with sweeping swivels of his golden head. “Speaking of my blushing Maid, where is she anyway?  I thought to find her here at this time of day.  A five day trip on a shitty boat just to see my soon to be blushing bride.”

The slaughter came to an end when the second boy yielded.  Ser Martin called an end for the day and the small gathering of boys broke up.  The two helmed opponents met in the middle of the yard and shook hands.  Jaime watched the short broad boy remove his helm.

Brienne had learned some new tricks since he had been away.

His eyes followed her as she ambled toward the barrel of water outside the armory.  She pulled the ladle out and took decidedly unladylike gulps.

He inched behind her as she reached in for a second helping of the tepid water.  Jaime placed his hand on her shoulder and gripped.

He wasn’t sure how he ended up on the ground until the pain lanced through his face and something warm ran past his lips. “Ser Jaime!” she exclaimed above him.

“A chaste kiss,” Jaime said and spit a wad of red. “A gentle hug, hells even a coquettish grin and a girlish squeal.” He took the hand she offered him and allowed her to pull him to his feet. “Didn’t those septas teach you how to properly greet your future Lord Husband?”

The girl stood at his height and fixed her blue gaze on him. “Don’t surprise a knight after a battle.” She intoned. “You of all people should know that Ser Jaime.”

He ran water over his face from the barrel Brienne had been drinking from.  “Its Ser now is it?” he laughed as the numbness spread across the bridge of his nose. “I come all this way just to see you and its _Ser_?  You were happy enough to see me at Storm’s End, and you smiled when I crowned you Queen of love and beauty.  Why now are you so forma?”

“Shall I call you Kingslayer, then?” she asked with that mercurial glare.

“I didn’t kill the king!” He turned green eyes to her, “You are awfully tall and ugly for a ten year old.” He sneered.

“Says the man with a newly rearranged visage, _Ser._ “

Jaime began to wonder why he even bothered to come.  He had not thought the action through when he packed a small bag and headed for the harbor six days ago.  “I see your mood has grown into your face then, Wench.” He spat.

Brienne turned on her heel and began toward the Keep. “My father will want to see you.” She threw over her shoulder as way of invitation.

“I’m sure he will.”  Jaime answered running to catch up to her, still holding the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps he will send you to bed without any supper for marring the beautiful face of your betrothed.”

Brienne snorted but said nothing.

He matched her steps and let the silence fall between them.  Jaime had no idea how much she had known about what happened in King’s Landing; he wasn’t surprised the stories had reached to the far reaches of the Stormlands. “You are angry with me, my lady.  Pray tell, is this a moon thing?”

She continued to ignore him as they entered the great hall and made their way to Lord Selwyn’s airy solar. He grabbed for her arm before she knocked on the door. “You stopped answering my ravens.” He whispered.

Brienne sighed deeply. “You have no honor, Ser.” She hissed.

So that was it.  It always came down to that.  He removed his hand and straightened his posture.

Lord Serlwyn sent his daughter on a pointless errand, no doubt wanting to admonish him in private. Ser Jaime.” He smiled and gestured for him to take a seat. “I had no idea you would be visiting us.”

“Nor I,” Jaime shrugged. “And yet here I am.”

Lord Selwyn nodded and studied the younger man for a longer time than necessary. “I see my daughter was happy to see you.”

Jaime touched the spreading bruise on his face. “AH, the delicate touch of a fine Maid.  Where would the world be without it?”

The older man behind the desk shook his head. “You know, your mother and Brienne’s mother were good friends.

Jaime knew, it was one of the reasons his father even considered the match.  Say what one would about his parenting skills: Lord Tywin Lannister had loved his wife to the point of insanity.  The day she died he became an entirely creature altogether. “I see,”

“I don’t think you do.” Selwyn said.  He poured wine from a decanter on his desk and handed one to Jaime. “You are from a large family.  A great house. I haven’t much family left.  A brother at the Wall, this island, we Tarths are set to die off.”

“You’re a young man yet, “ Jaime said sipping the sweet Arbor. “I am sure you could still produce a few more Tarths, under the right circumstances.”

“I don’t deal in maybes, Ser Jaime.” He said with a nod. “I knew your parents, your mother mostly. I thought tying my daughter to such a great house, even at the cost of my family’s island, would be the best I could do for the only child I have.”

Jaime was certain this conversation was not going to go nicely. He began to have a feeling this has to do with what happened in King’s Landing.

“My daughter is not happy about the match.” Selwyn said simply.

“What maid is happy with a match?  It’s the way of those of our status.”  Jaime shrugged.

Selwyn sighed and placed his glass down gently. “I am not sure why you opened the gates to the city to your father’s guards when you were under orders to keep the Lannister forces out.  I can only imagine you were under some bifurcation of duty; serve your city or serve your father.  I can understand the dilemma.”

“No, you don’t” Jaime said through clenched teeth.

Lord Selwyn nodded and refilled his cup. “I love my daughter, as I am sure your father loves his own children.”

Jaime snorted but said nothing.

“I would not end the betrothal myself, Ser Jaime.  I am aware of that song so popular in the taverns in Lannisport.”

“You want to end this contract then?” Jaime asked sounding very much like Lord Tywin’s son.”

“Yes.  No, I do not.  But, Brienne.  I suppose I have ingrained in her a sense of honor.  She worries that you have none.  She worries that Tarth will be ruined by a family association such as yours.”

“She’s a child of ten!” Jaime mused.

“Raised to have her own mind in full knowledge of her responsibilities to Tarth and her family house..”  He studied Jaime as he spoke the next words. “We share concerns.”

“Are you seriously telling me that the Lannisters are not good enough for your daughter?” he asked angrily.

Lord Selwyn held up a massive hand. “Hear me, Ser Jaime.” He said in an even tone. “I am not ending the betrothal. “ He sighed, tired suddenly. “My daughter is all I have left after four children.  All passed on.  My wife is gone and I want no other woman by my side.”

“So you want me to convince my father to end the betrothal?  As if I could.  My father is hells bent for this to happen.”  And, there weren’t many options left to him, anyway; but Jaime kept that to himself.

Selwyn Tarth looked at the younger man with something close to pleading. “I love my daughter, Ser Jaime.  I thought this match would be good for her.  I am not a stupid man, I know she would not have many other suitors.  Fewer still interested in her rather than the lands she comes with.” 

“But, Jaime hissed, “Someone with more honor would be better.”

“You gave her a sword for your betrothal, so I can only assume you understand her…uniqueness.”

He could.

“And you would then agree tht she deserves someone who would honor her as she should be honored.

“Someone other than me.”  

“Think on it, my boy.”  Lord Selwyn rose to signify the end of the conversation

Jaime stood and turned quickly without returning the nod the older man had delivered.  He was sick of being tied to an act that no one wanted to understand.  He still recalled Ned’s face as the procession passed them through the City Gate.  He saw those grey judgmental eyes every time he closed his own.

If they wanted to end this, who was he to dispute it?

And yet.

Jaime found her in the dining hall, dinner had just been served and she looked all of her young years seated in men’s clothes.  Jaime slid into the seat next to her at the main table and accepted his trencher from the server. “My Lady,” he nodded.

“Ser,” she answered. Without looking at him.

“You were quite fierce today.” He plucked a piece of bread from her plate.

“It is important to be as fierce in battle as one needs to be with _integrity._ ”

“I suppose if one has never really been in the real world,” Jaime said. “Then integrity would have a very finite definition.”

“Rectitude has no physical location, Ser.” Brienne spat.

He’d had enough.  Jaime stood with his meal half finished and addressed the Hall. “My Lady,” he said loud enough to render any refusal uncomfortable. “Will you take the air with me?”

Brienne rose sullenly, her large blue eyes angry and dark. She accepted his arm and they left the hall.

Once outside in the darkened courtyard, Jaime spoke. “You want to end this, then?”

“I do,” Brienne nodded.

He sighed, “Life is not a fairy story, Brienne.  Not everything is black and white.  Villains do blink, ladies don’t really faint, and kings aren’t always magnificently sane.”

She seemed to consider his words for a time as the silence once again crept between them. “You allowed your father’s men into a city you were sworn to protect.” She accused.

“I did.” He nodded.

“You allowed your father’s men through the city unmolested.”

“I did,” he nodded again.

“They got to the throne room and killed King Aerys.” She accused.

“So you admit the name I have earned is not befitting of me then?” Jaime said with a smirk. “I’m touched.”

Brienne turned on him then, removing her arm from his. “You allowed Clegane to kill the king.”

“No one calls him Kingslayer,” at least not to his face or for that matter anywhere in his hearing.

She had nothing to fire back at that. Instead she tilted her ugly head and considered him. “It was a dishonorable act but would not have happened had your dishonor not been done.”

“You have it all figured out, then?” Jaime sneered, not sure why this homely girl’s consideration mattered so much to him.  He laughed suddenly, a sound without joviality or mirth. “I am arguing military and ethics with a child!” he announced to the heavy and empty air.

She shoved him harder than he had expected and he stumbled to catch himself. “I am no child!: she insisted. And even a child knows right from wrong.  Something you are lacking, Ser.”

“So that’s it then?” Jaime asked. “One poor decision of youth and I am marked by even a child?”

“I remember!” she hissed at him.

Jaime froze.  It took no more words for him to understand what she meant. “You would be wiser to forget that, Wench.” Jaime answered with a cadence of solemnity.

“Are you threatening me?” she asked.

“It is not I you have to worry about, my lady.  In fact, it is I who has kept you from harm from my sweet sister.” Jaime smacked his head. “This is not about the King.  I forget you are a woman, or girl.  It’s hard to recall, what with all the mauling and men’s breeches.”  Jaime sighed and rubbed his face. “All right, Wench.  I concede to your anger.  To my defense, you have nothing to worry over since she will not allow me anywhere near her any longer.” He turned and took her hand. “Not since I stopped her catspaw from killing and possibly raping you at Storm’s End.”  Jaime drew her closer and placed his other hand on her shoulder, still recalling the dull pain from the last time he touched her shoulder. “Not since I sat sentry outside your room each night.  It was a wonder I was able to win that tourney, I was physically exhausted.”

“I had no idea.” She said quietly.

“Of course you didn’t why would you?”  It wasn’t your sister trying to kill you.”  He looked at her then. “Though, Joffrey is mine.” He stated wanting to clear everything at once.

Brienne touched her face in worry, she hadn’t meant for the conversation to turn to this. “Why?” she asked.

“Why?  Because, maybe I would miss that ugly face of yours, Wench.  Standing next to you makes me prettier.”  He said squeezing her hand.

“No,” she said frustrated, she pulled her hand from his and turned on him. “Why would you be a, why would you have…”

“Fuck my sister?” he asked eyes grown dark. Jamie laughed then, the sound split across the darkness of the path they had been walking along. “I help to overthrow a king and you want to know about another woman?”

“No, I mean…” Brienne shrugged not certain why she felt uncomfortable.

“All right, Wench.  You asked and I will tell you.” Jaime said. “We were born from the same womb and for a long time we were all each other had.  A perfect reflection of each other.  Fucking just seemed like a completion of a perfect circle, a joining of two halves ripped asunder.”

“And now?” she asked.

Jaime shrugged. “Now. We have different lives.”

They walked on for a while, turning back toward the castle. “I still am not sure of this betrothal.” She said weightily.

“My father will not put it aside, and I know you have far too much honor to as well.” Jaime said.

“Still,” she hemmed.

“There is still time, My Lady.” Jaime cut. “We do not have to decide anything, still some years before you flower.”  He smiled at the blush that crept across her pale freckled face dappled in bright n=moonlight. “There is another Tourney I must attend.  Please come.” He asked with more honesty than he intended.

“I don’t know…” she hemmed.

“One yer from now, I will tell you everything if you come to the tourney.  If, after that you still feel the same way, then I will force my father’s hand into releasing the contract.” He offered her his hand “Do we have a deal?”

Brienne considered his hand as a horse considering an empty feed bag.  He could not blame the girl, who would want to be tied to a man with shit for honor, anyway?

Jaime nodded, understanding that there was too much still in the air between them. “Why did you open the gates?” she asked when they were nearly back to the main gate.

“Now you want to know?” he asked. “You are the first to ask.”

“Then tell me, perhaps…perhaps it will make a difference.” Brienne said.

Jaime laughed. “So now I am redeemable is it?”

Brienne pulled away from him. “Don’t mock me.” She warned.

Jaime swept low. “I would never do that, My Lady.  You are far too frightening with a mace.”

She smiled at both his bow and his praise. “Tell me.”

Jaime considered her for a moment. “Come to the tourney at CrakeHill, it’s in one year.  I shall tell you there.  Then, you can give me your answer.” He smiled at her nod. “Good, now, Wench, let’s get back inside before you frighten all the night creatures.”

><><>< 

He stayed for only a week; most of the time he spent with Brienne in the practice yard. Martin approached him toward the end of the week with a friendly slap on the back. “Your face is healing nicely.” He offered.

“My lady’s kisses are most _punishing_.  I still may take her for squire, though she might frighten the horses.”

Martin called the group practicing into groups and tossed Jaime a practice sword.  Martin nodded to Brienne who bowed to her opponent. “Go easy on me, my lady.” Jaime grinned. “I’d ask you for your favor, but I fear I already wear it” He pointed to the still healing bruise over his nose and right eye.

They fought then; Brienne was strong and fierce where he was agile and lithe.  She had grown more skilled with a blade and it took all he could for Jaime to best her. “Wench,” he said catching his breath after she yielded. “I am quite certain I should check you for a cock before standing in front of the alters.”

“My name is Brienne,” she insisted as the blush crept across her features. “And next time we cross blades, I shall beat you.”

Of that he had no doubt.

She met him as he made his way to the harbor on the day set for his return to King’s Landing.  He would turn in his position as commander of the city watch then return to Casterly.  He knew his father would wonder at where he had been hiding for over a week and he didn’t care.  His father will be happy to know that Jaime had managed to save the betrothal his father had arranged.

Though, Jaime Lannister rarely did anything to make his father happy and anyway, he doubted he would even tell his father anything about his visit. “Try not to kill anyone before I see you again, Wench.”

“As long as you try to remember my name is Brienne, not Wench.” She fired.

He nodded, thought about placing a kiss on her cheek, then recalling his still tender nose, thought better of the gesture.  Instead he nodded to her as if she were another knight passing along the road.

"I make no promises, Wench.  Until Crakehall!" he waved.  The boat made sail and he was surprised to see Brienne still at the dock watching his ship fade into the horizon.  


End file.
